


Dopey

by ironwoodsfairy



Series: I'll See You On The Other Side [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Caring!Bellamy, Comfort, Dopey!Clarke, F/M, Fluff, Married Couple, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 23:43:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20236330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironwoodsfairy/pseuds/ironwoodsfairy
Summary: When Clarke comes out of surgery to remove a small benign mass, she's lovey, cute, and doped out of her mind. Naturally, she tries to date her husband.





	Dopey

Bellamy watched her stir, her movements nearly imperceptible at first as she regained consciousness; first her fingertips, then her head as it gently began to roll back and forth. He smiled, knowing the feeling as she swam up through the remains of the anesthesia from his own time of having to go under the knife to repair bone and muscle. Her pulse rang out loudly from the monitor, filling the room with the quiet but strong, incessant _ beep _. 

The nurse stood just to the side of Clarke’s bed, checking her vitals and recording them on the tablet before her. “Good morning honey,” she said, voice soft but cheery, encouraging her patient to continue waking up. “Can you tell me your name?” 

Clarke’s brow furrowed as she wiggled beneath the heated blanket the nurse had put over her only moments before to keep her comfortable, desperate to bury herself further within the warmth. 

The nurse smiled at Bellamy as he pressed a hand over his mouth to suppress a chuckle. “Come on sweetheart, time to wake up now,” she said, encouraging her further. “What’s your name?”

Clarke grumbled, choosing to not cooperate. When she got no response from the voice speaking to her, she cracked an eye open, returning to the world of consciousness through half-lidded lashes. She blinked against the bright lights and swallowed, looking for her voice. “Clarke… Griffin… Blake….” Her words were thick and slow, still dripping in the medication used to ease her under and keep her there. 

The nurse checked off a box on her tablet. “Good job honey. Your surgery went perfectly well. Now, we already determined that the tumor was almost definitely benign, but we’re going to send out what we removed to the lab. You’ll be back in three weeks for a followup appointment with your surgeon.” 

Bellamy watched as Clarke became more conscious by the second, her nurse’s voice helping to bring her back word by word. It was only now that he could let go of the breath he felt he’d been holding for the past five hours. He knew deep down that everything would be alright, but that knowledge did nothing to ease his anxiety as his wife was wheeled in for surgery for what they said was just an intraductal papilloma, a small benign mass in the breast, and not something to be too concerned about. 

“We’ve given you some medication to take home with you, your husband already has it. He has all the instructions, but I’m going to tell them to you as well, alright?”

Clarke’s eyes flashed open, this time with vigor, and landed on Bellamy. He gave a little wave from his seat, eyes crinkling from the smile that sat on his lips.

“Husband?” she asked, eyes wide and nearly crazed. “No. Way. He’s too hot to be my husband, oh my _ gods _. Wow. We should go on a date. There’s no way you’re my husband. I want to take you out. To the movies!”

A hearty laugh escaped Bellamy’s chest. “Good morning, Princess. We already did the dating part and have date nights all the time, but we can watch a movie tonight while you rest, if you’d like.”

Clarke gasped comically, as though she were trying to suck all of the air from the room. “No. That’s _ impossible _. You’re so funny. And cute. I want to count your freckles and marry you again and again, for every one that you have!”

Bellamy’s laugh was closer to a bark this time, but his eyes were shining. He knows she loves him, and he loves her, and they prove it to each other every day, over and over again. But this... this was something else. Something utterly innocent and pure in her medicated state. “Babe, we are married. We’ve been married for over two years. But I’ll gladly marry you for every freckle I have.” His smile was warm. “Then we’d have eons together.”

Clarke’s smile stretched across her face. “Eons sound wonderful,” she said, her voice slightly more lucid now, though Bellamy knew that calling her sober would be a far cry from the truth.

The nurse politely cleared her throat from the corner of the room, half turned away from the couple to give them as much privacy as she could, though a smile played on her own lips. “Alright Clarke, let’s sit you up a bit so you can find your balance before you stand, ok? Now, here are the instructions for your medication. It’s just an antibiotic and optional painkillers in case you need them...”

The nurse’s voice filled the room, but Clarke didn’t care to listen to what she had to say. The fact that this man sitting before her was her husband… she couldn’t believe it. Didn’t dare to. His tanned complexion, freckled skin, warm eyes, and bright smile were beautiful, radiant against the sharp white angles of the too-bright room. She could see the kindness in him, rolling off him in waves like foam off the sea, and it calmed her. The very thought that he was hers and she was his still bubbled around inside of her, but it began to calm, too, anchoring itself within her consciousness as she continued to truly wake, little by little. 

She watched as Bellamy stood to shake the nurse’s hand, the sounds around her suddenly snapping back from oblivion. The nurse gave her one last smile and glanced between them, heart warmed at the encounter, before ducking out the door and closing it behind her. 

“Are you feeling alright to stand up?” Bellamy was standing before her now, hands on his hips, a goofy grin still plastered across his face. 

Clarke shifted closer to the edge of the bed, testing her feet on the floor. His arms shot out to stop her, as if she were going to throw herself onto the floor. She scoffed lightly, though that dazed part of her was still absolutely thrilled at his care for her. “I’m alright Bellamy. I’m feeling a bit better now.” 

He helped her to stand before sliding her hospital gown off her figure. She was thoroughly bandaged, nearly to the point of obscenity for such a small incision, and Clarke watched as Bellamy tried to hide his emotions, but the worry that still tucked itself within his soul made itself known in his eyes. He gently eased her into her underclothes and shoes before sliding the sweater dress she’d brought over her head, slowly guiding her arms through it. His heart twinged as she winced, the movement pulling at the skin across her breast where the small mass had been removed from. 

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he murmured. Clarke only smiled and hummed, delighted at the nickname and doing her best to prove to him that she was alright, the dull ache not yet surfacing from beneath the pain medication they’d already put in her IV.

He made her hold onto his arm as they left, walking slowly down the halls to the garage where he’d parked his car as close as he legally could. He eased her into it, before quickly jogging around to the other side. The whole ride home, Bellamy kept an arm in Clarke’s lap, steadying her as best he could on the road while she just twirled her fingers around his. 

“You’re so pretty, Bellamy,” she said at the stoplight just outside their neighborhood. 

Bellamy snorted. “Oh am I?”

She hummed. “Mmhm. And so nice. You take such good care of me.”

“I try to.” He eased the car across the road and soon parked it in the driveway. He ran up to the front door and opened it before coming to her side of the car. 

“Arm up, Princess.” Clarke giggled and obliged, holding her arm out to slip over his neck as he gently lifted her out of the car and into his arms. 

“My hero,” she sighed contentedly against his neck as he stepped through the doorway. 

“Every Princess needs a hero,” Bellamy replied, setting her gently on the couch. 

Clarke shook her head, almost pouting. “Every princess’ hero is herself.” 

Bellamy snorted and kissed the top of her head. “You’re very right.” He stepped into the kitchen, cupboards and cabinets opening and closing. “What kind of soup do you want?”

Clarke’s cheeks nearly hurt from the giddy smile that once again spread across her face. “How did you know I wanted soup?”

“Because you always want soup.”

She laughed. “Just chicken noodle. It’s probably the safest thing for my stomach right now.”

She listened to Bellamy work behind her, shuffling and whistling as he went. The couch was so homey and inviting, nothing like the hospital cots, even if those did have a heated blanket on occasion. 

The next thing she knew, Bellamy’s hand was gently touching her shoulder. “Wake up, babe. You need to take your meds and eat something. Do you need a painkiller?”

Clarke took a deep breath, noting the ache creeping into her chest. “Please.” 

He pulled one from the bottle of pills on the coffee table where it stood beside her steaming bowl of soup and passed her the glass of water in his hand. 

She downed them quickly before reaching for her bowl as Bellamy grabbed a blanket from the basket and the remote from the recliner. 

“What movie do you want to watch?”

“Winter Soldier?”

“That sounds good to me. How was it to ride out the anaesthesia?”

Clarke smiled. “Fun. Very fun. The first thing I noticed was the weight of that heated blanket, then the nurse talking.” She was almost laughing now. “Gods I was so lovey! And dopey. What was it I was saying about your freckles?”

“That you want to marry me again and again, one time for every freckle I have. It was absolutely adorable.” 

Clarke hummed her appreciation. “Yeah. Well, I am that.”

“Yes,” he laughed, “yes you are. So what am I going to call you now, hmm? Dopey? Like the dwarf?”

Clarke harrumphed as she finally settled in his side, soaking in the warmth of him as he tucked the blanket around them and wrapped his arms around her. “No. You call me Princess.”

She smiled once more as he chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath her while he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and turned on the movie. The smile that danced across his lips audible in his voice - “Yes, Princess.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “we’ve been married for 2 years now and u just had surgery that left u real fucking dopey and u keep telling me that u wanna take me out and marry me” au - https://diphylleiatae.tumblr.com/post/146723266566/trash-aus


End file.
